


Shakespeare is Hard

by Eroppai (FalstaffKisaragi)



Category: Fate/Apocrypha, Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Bath Sex, Bisexual MMF, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Large Cock, M/M, Nipple Play, References to Shakespeare, Rimming, Threesome - F/M/M, femboys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 11:01:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20704898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FalstaffKisaragi/pseuds/Eroppai
Summary: The Bard, suffering from writer's block and blue balls, goes to the Chaldea baths, and meets with the Rider who was once on the opposing side. Shakespeare shares some of his favorite dirty lines with Astolfo, until Mordred accidentally stumbles into the baths. The two horny gentlemen of Chaldea are more than happy to let her join in.





	Shakespeare is Hard

**Author's Note:**

> Astolfo is inspired as equally by his portrayal in doujins as his portrayal in official material. Shakespeare is mostly inspired by _Something Rotten_.

Since being summoned to Chaldea, Shakespeare had spent most of his time in his office. He was not one for battle, instead preferring to work on more plays. When he wasn’t doing those, he was watching the myriad adaptations of his works in the modern day, and there were countless versions of them. Words and phrases he had coined were used by everyone. There were even people who did regular features about him every summer, which he quite enjoyed as well. Hearing himself praised was something every author wanted to hear. As the saying goes, no tears for the writer, no tears for the reader.

That applied to other things as well. He also wanted audiences to be as invested in his dramatic plot twists as he was, and to get off when he did. His works were made for mass consumption, yet often had plenty of suggestive dialogue and scenes that hinted towards the sex lives of his characters, and the sonnets could get even more suggestive. Everyone, from commoners to royalty, enjoyed a hint towards something lewder. Yet, here in the modern day with its abundance of riches, he had still come across writer’s block.

Attempting to ask Andersen, who was stuck in the body of a child, for help was of no use. He needed to find a new muse, be it among the Servants or the Masters, who could spur him to write the next great work. Though he was an Englishman, it was to his own surprise that Shakespeare’s next inspiration would come from France. Having paced around Chaldea to where it looked as though he might wear grooves in the floor, the Bard made his way into the baths.

During the original Holy Grail War he was summoned for, before all this Singularity business, he had been part of the Red Faction. He was aware of the other servants in the Black Faction, but they, much as everything else, were ultimately unimportant. Pieces on a map to be moved about into the most dramatic story, whoever’s team was affected. The Black team certainly seemed to have more beloved Servants, with only the Saber on his team really attaining the kind of popularity that could equal his First Folio.

The steam cleared away as he walked in. Standing in the entrance to the baths was an occupant who had already gotten in. Shakespeare had found himself in the same situation as Jeanne d’Arc and Sieg, but he welcomed it with the curiosity of a writer. There was Astolfo, in the nude and half-erect. His body was fairly toned, and the size of his member was bigger than his feminine face would suggest. Astolfo greeted Shakespeare with a casual laugh and an invitation to join him, his dick flopping up and down as he walked towards him.

“Not very often you’re outside your room,” said Astolfo. “What brings you here?”

“I was in search of inspiration, having hit upon writer’s block,” said Shakespeare. “I thought, perhaps, hearing the tales of my fellow Servants would provide some inspiration. For are we all not drawn from great tales, the likes of which I would write about?”

“I thought it was because Master said your office needed to be cleaned,” said Astolfo.

“There was such an ulterior motive? No matter, the Master respects his servants. Sir Astolfo, as it only us gentlemen here in the baths, shall I revel you with some of the naughtier excerpts from my many works? I can do more than tragedy, comedy and history.”

Astolfo smirked. “I get what you’re saying, Shakespeare. You want to see me jerking off.”

“It is not the phrasing I would use, but a Frenchman such as yourself. That womanly face that captures men’s hearts, and that magnificent lance that captures womens’ loins! To see what such a face, such a body looks like in the throes of ecstasy would be a rare sight indeed for this playwright,” said Shakespeare.

Astolfo grabbed onto his dick in one hand, stroking it until it reached a state of full erection. His pink glans poked itself out from his foreskin, dripping with water from the steam and precum. Astolfo brushed his hard cock against Shakespeare’s leg, delighting as the Caster tried to reach down and grab it, only for Astolfo to yank it away at the last second. He had no problem showing off, but for now, only his Master was allowed to touch his dick.

“I’ve shown you mine, now you show me yours. What’s that quill look like with a stiffy?” asked Astolfo.

“Sir Astolfo, it is not merely carnal pleasures that arouse me. No, it is in the pleasure of poetry and theater! If you wish to help me, I shall recite some of my most titillating passages, and show you what it looks like when I have achieved erection!” said Shakespeare.

Shakespeare began with a simple love letter, an excerpt from _Twelfth Night_.

_“By my life, this is my lady’s hand these be her very C’s, her U’s and her T’s and thus she makes her great P’s.”_

Upon the reading of such a passage, Shakespeare felt a trembling in his balls. To think he had written such a line, expressly moving the plot forward while expressly talking about a woman’s pussy. The female Ritsuka was far too much of a loose cannon for him to consider getting close to hers, but the idea had almost certainly crossed his mind. Astolfo looked down at Shakespeare’s dick, asking him for the next passage.

_“If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark._  
_ Now he will sit under a medlar tree_  
_ And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit_  
_ As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone--_  
_ O Romeo, that she were, O, that she were_  
_ An open-arse, though a pop’rin pear.”_

“It is a line from Mercutio,” said Shakespeare. “Surely even you have heard of _Romeo and Juliet_?”

“Open-arse?” asked Asolfo.

“It does not mean the backdoor, as it does today. No, it meant the garden between a woman’s legs,” said Shakespeare. “Do you not know what a medlar looks like?”

“I was more thinking that I’ve already gotten a pop’rin pear in my open-arse many times, but if that’s not what you were talking about... though you’re getting harder, you really are the kind of writer who strokes off to his own work,” said Astolfo.

“A bawdy Bard am I!” said Shakespeare. “This next one is a delight. A dream of a midsummer’s night!”

_“O wall, full often thou hast heard my moans,_  
_ For parting my fair Pyramus and me!_  
_ My cherry lips have often kiss’d thy stones,_  
_ Thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee_  
_ O, kiss me through the hole of this vile wall!_  
_ I kiss the wall’s hole, not your lips at all.”_

“That one is about anal?” asked Astolfo.

“You are quite enamored of anal sex,” said Shakespeare.

“Of the two Ritsukas, I’ve spent plenty of time with the boy,” said Astolfo. “He reminds me of Sieg. Though most of his favored Servants are women - even Ganesha, and she’s a big girl - he’s perfectly okay with me. It must be because I’m so cute!”

“It is quite understandable, Sir Astolfo,” said Shakespeare. “Looking at you even stirs mine own loins! Reading aloud these passages has gotten my feather standing up. But a quill must be dipped if it’s to be of any use.”

Astolfo, who had been idly fondling his own dick while Shakespeare read aloud his passages from memory, turned and showed the Bard his cock. “I can’t focus either, not with a huge hard-on like this. Tell me, Shakespeare, what would you like first? My lips? Or my ass?”

“Your lips, Sir Astolfo,” said Shakespeare.

Astolfo dipped his fingers in a small bowl of lotion that had been provided, and got on his knees. He rested on a bathmat, not coming into contact with the hard tile. He was eye level with Shakespeare’s dick, looking at it with curiosity. While he had often sucked off his Master in the past, doing it with another Servant was a novel experience. Astolfo moved his fingers around to his back, inserting them into his anus to pleasure his prostate, keeping himself hard while he went down on Shakespeare.

He licked the tip, watching as the dick bounced back and forth. It was hot and throbbing, eager to go inside Astolfo’s mouth. He lowered his head onto the cock, wrapping his lips around the glans. Shakespeare smirked, amused at the sight of the pink-haired boyish youth sucking him off, his lips as skilled as any woman’s. Astolfo moved his head up and down on Shakespeare’s dick, feeling every inch of the member inside his mouth. The shape was slightly curved, giving it a feeling that his Japanese-born Master didn’t have.

“Once I was summoned as a Spirit, the diseases that plagued my loins in my previous life vanished! This modern world, what a thing! That there were such gentlemen as yourself, Sir Astolfo, who understands what a man’s prick desires most!” said Shakespeare.

“You’re pretty thick for a recluse,” said Astolfo. “If you like, can I get a part in your next play?”

“Sir Astolfo, you did know that in my time, it was men who played all the parts! You would make a fine Juliet, or an Ariel. There is a multitude of roles someone of your stature can perform!” said Shakespeare.

As he was sucking, Astolfo ran his fingers around his anus, lubing it up and sliding his fingers into his bowels, pressing against his prostate. Ever since that time with Sieg, he had always been playing with his butt, keeping it open in case his Master wanted to be more intimate with a mana transfer. It also made his cock hard, and Astolfo loved the reactions when people saw his dick. With how cute he was, they weren’t expecting him to be as well hung as he appeared.

Astolfo’s technique was such that it wasn’t long before Shakespeare’s dick throbbed, harder and hotter. He was about to cum inside Astolfo’s mouth, and Astolfo pushed his mouth down as far as it could go, eager to taste the delicious semen from one of England’s greatest writers. Shakespeare had spent so much time in his office, focused on little other than writing, that he was severely backed up. A thick wad of semen landed on Astolfo’s tongue and palate, filling his mouth with a salty, creamy spunk.

His lips removed themselves from Shakespeare’s penis, a long line of saliva linking his mouth and the glans. Astolfo swallowed, delighting in the sensation of the wad of cum traveling down into his stomach. He could feel his magic returning, charging up and giving him enough for another training session.

“That was tasty,” said Astolfo. “Not as good as my Master’s, of course, but I liked it.”

“That was even better than mine own hand. Truly, human contact, skin-to-skin, that is what makes sex one of life’s simplest pleasures,” said Shakespeare. “Let us make the beast with two backs! A phrase, you must know, I also coined.”

“Don’t get full of yourself, Willy,” said Astolfo. “You haven’t even tried my cute butt yet.” Astolfo bent over, presenting his ass towards Shakespeare. It was cute and toned, with enough plumpness to make it look appealing, like a ripe fruit. His asshole was a natural shade, with pink hairs surrounding it that added to the feeling when accepting a dick. The way his dick and balls dangled between his legs, gently swinging back and forth like a pendulum, only made them look more appealing.

Astolfo grabbed onto his butt cheeks and spread them apart, widening his lubed-up asshole to present himself before Shakespeare. The Bard grabbed his own cum-covered cock, and moved towards Astolfo. Everything ceased when the door to the baths opened, and an unexpected visitor barged in. Da Vinci had said that the baths were coed today, though that was clearly a lie. She just wanted to see what would happen if the former Saber of Red got a chance to see her Caster and the Black Faction’s Rider in a compromising position. It might be just what she needed to loosen up.

“What the hell is going on here?” asked Mordred. “Does da Vinci think I’m some kind of... what’s the word?”

“Fujoshi?” asked Astolfo.

“That’s probably what it was,” said Mordred. “Astolfo, get away from that writer, I have a bone... bone... boners!”

“What is a boner?” asked Shakespeare.

“This,” said Astolfo, changing to a sitting position and thrusting his dick towards the ceiling. “For someone who made so many neologisms, you have a tough time with modern slang. You have to look beyond your own work, Willy.”

“Stop calling me Willy,” said Shakespeare.

Mordred’s eyes were darting back and forth, looking at Shakespeare’s more rugged cock and Astolfo’s cuter prick. Both of them were erect, and one of them was covered in cum. She had been so focused on obtaining Artoria’s approval that she had been denying her own sex drive, and being confronted with two dicks was stirring something in her that she wasn’t entirely sure had been there before. Shakespeare’s reminded her of Sisigou’s, while Astolfo’s recalled her own father’s. Artoria had also briefly obtained boyish looks when that spell was in effect.

“Ah, an Electra complex,” said Shakespeare. “Truly, a thing of tragic fiction. Which I specialize in. Tell me, Daughter of Pendragon, would you like to join in our sexual play?”

“Shakespeare!” said Mordred. “You wrote so many plays, but how come there’s nothing about Camelot? Arthur? The Knights of the Round Table? You’re England’s greatest writer, but you didn’t write a single line about the savior of the country? You oughta be ashamed of yourself, no matter how big your dick is!”

“Don’t misunderstand,” said Shakespeare. “If you wish to see your legacy in writing, find someone who can summon Sir Thomas Malory, I am not the man to turn to! Even I am surprised to see so many interpretations of my works in the modern day. Better Branagh than Baz.”

“I’ve never been much of a reader,” said Mordred. “It’s more fun to punch things. Can we take this into the changing room? All this humidity is making me dizzy.”

“That’s just your pussy,” said Astolfo.

After cooling down and sharing a glass of milk after a bath, the three of them set about using the empty room to continue their sexual experimenting. Astolfo had fruit milk, Mordred had milk, and Shakespeare had coffee milk. All of them were refreshed, and still as aroused as they were in the baths. Mordred got on her knees, and grabbed onto Shakespeare and Astolfo’s dicks with her hands, rubbing and stroking them with a handjob that alternated between rough and gentle.

“So this is a handjob,” said Mordred. “I can really feel the difference in your cocks.”

“Don’t be shy, suck,” said Astolfo. “I may like being a bottom, but I like having my dick pleasured, too. You’re cute, Mordred. I think you’d be able to make my dick really happy.”

Mordred moved her mouth towards Astolfo’s cock, taking the entire tip in her mouth at once. She sucked it in a sloppy, unrefined way, trying to get a feel for the cock’s shape and girth. She could feel it reacting to her tongue and her lips, letting her know that she was making it happy. Astolfo let go of his inhibitions, and moaned as loud as he could. His voice was surprisingly deeper than either of them expected, revealing the sex-crazed side of him that barely showed itself. The cock that had pleased Bradamante on those lonely nights when she pined for her beloved was now buried in Mordred’s cheeks, about to surrender the cum stored in Astolfo’s squishy balls.

With her other hand, Mordred fondled Shakespeare’s balls, being very careful not to squeeze them too tight. The thickness of his rod intimidated her. From touching it, she knew that she would prefer to only do oral on Shakespeare, letting Astolfo’s lance be the one to take her instead. Mordred’s hunched over stature gave both of the men a view of her well-defined butt cheeks. While Mordred’s bust was far from the biggest of the Servants, she had a very sexy ass. One that Astolfo thought was almost on par with his own.

Mordred switched over to Shakespeare’s cock. Compared to Astolfo, he was a lot hairier. Mordred lapped up the leftover cum from when Astolfo had sucked him off. The taste was salty and somewhat bitter, but when she swallowed it, she felt a warmth in her stomach and a stirring in her loins. Her feminine instincts were kicking in as soon as the smell of his cum went up her nostrils. Lines of pussy juice ran down her legs, creating a small puddle beneath her knees on the wooden floor.

Quickly switching her mouth back to Astolfo’s cock, Mordred took it in until it was nearly at her throat. Unprepared for such quick stimulation, Astolfo came, spraying hot, white wads of cum into her cheeks and down her throat. Mordred rolled it around on her tongue, coating Astolfo’s still hard dick in his ejaculate. It was almost chewy with how thick it was, and even more potent than Shakespeare in making her wet. Not only was her pussy primed for a man’s cock, now her ass was hungering for one, too.

At the same time, Shakespeare came on Mordred, covering her face and breasts in a layer of his sticky jizz. The smell was going right up Mordred’s nose, covering her chest in a glossy layer of semen. Mordred reached down and scooped it up, tasting the second wad from the Bard on her tongue. The flavor mixed with Astolfo’s, and Mordred was left bright red, sweating and extremely aroused. Her clit was poking out of its hood, and her pussy lips were wet and engorged.

“I’m not ready to lose my virginity. There’s a lot of being mentally prepared I wasn't planning on when I walked in here,” said Mordred. “But... I’ve enjoyed playing with my butt. Astolfo, can you put your cock in my butt?”

“It’s rare that I get to be on top,” said Astolfo. “It looks ready for me.”

Mordred lay down on the floor and spread her legs. Her pussy was dripping, lubing up her ass with her juices. Astolfo set down a towel for the both of them, and pointed his throbbing cockhead towards the entrance of Mordred’s puckering anus. The tip wedged itself into the ring of her asshole, pushing past the entrance with a little wriggling. Mordred moaned, slowly getting used to the rather thick cock filling her backside, pushing deeper into her until Astolfo’s balls were pressing against her butt.

“How’s your first time having anal? You get used to it after a few minutes,” said Astolfo.

“It’s so hot... my butt’s being spread open,” said Mordred. “Why does this feel so good?”

“Dicks are meant to make you feel good,” said Astolfo. “I’m going to start moving, so work with my rhythm. I want to blow a huge load in your cute, firm butt!”

Astolfo began to thrust, raising his cock out of Mordred’s ass before plunging it back in, getting a steady rhythm that made his balls slap against Mordred’s ass. The heat and fullness in her ass slowly overtook Mordred, who began to feel the throbbing of Astolfo’s cock spreading to her pussy, tingling her sensitive parts until her nipples were getting erect before her eyes. She was bright red, and sweating more than she had before she got in the baths.

“I’ve had my way with men and women alike, but I do love a good asshole,” said Astolfo. “There’s something satisfying about the way it sounds, the way it’s so deliciously tight. Thanks for letting me take your anal virginity, Mordred.”

Mordred moaned and groaned, her ass being pounded increasingly harder by Astolfo’s thick rod. She watched as his balls bounced back and forth, their soft springiness making her mouth water. Astolfo was so turned on she could almost smell the cum in his balls, excited to break loose and fill her up. Shakespeare had been watching the two of them go at it, Astolfo’s butt joyfully bouncing up and down as he fucked the daughter of King Arthur with a devilish smile.

“Sir Astolfo, you have not fulfilled your promise to let me taste your backdoor,” said Shakespeare. “As pleasant as Lady Mordred’s mouth was, my prick still yearns to go inside a hole, any hole will do.”

“Then fuck my butt, don’t waste time giving a solioquy!” said Astolfo. “It’s open for your dick anytime!”

Shakespeare aimed his quill directly at Astolfo’s butt. His ass was already lubed up and wide open, and accepted Shakespeare’s dick as easy as any pussy. Astolfo let out a slurred “Fuck yeah!” as he felt the Bard’s member penetrate his backside. Mordred yelped as well, noticing that Astolfo’s boyish cock had become harder inside her, a rod of steel that was spreading her anus even further apart. Shakespeare grabbed onto Astolfo’s butt cheeks, and began pounding him with an equal intensity.

“‘Tis a fine bottom! One that captures the senses and the penis with equal aplomb!” said Shakespeare. “This is what I’ve been missing! My muse!”

“Then what the hell am I even here for?” asked Mordred.

“For this,” said Astolfo, his brow sweaty and his face red. He leaned in and kissed Mordred, their tongues overlapping as drool rolled down Mordred’s chin. Astolfo’s body pressed against Mordred’s, their hard, pink nipples rubbing against each other. Mordred’s modest breasts squished down, making her ass get even tighter around Astolfo’s cock. Astolfo pulled his lips away from Mordred, and she noticed he was still panting.

When their nipples had touched, Astolfo had started moaning, his dick throbbing in a way that Mordred hadn’t expected. Somehow, his nipples were more sensitive than hers, and he still hadn’t cum inside her. Despite his face, Mordred wouldn’t find a dick that could stay harder, longer than his. He knew all the ins and outs of his penis, and loved to use it to bring pleasure. Mordred’s sexual bliss was at his whims.

At the same time, Shakespeare was going hard. He had spent so much time consuming adaptations of his works and trying to write a new one that he had taken to masturbating, like Andersen. He had completely forgotten how much better it felt to have sex with someone else, to let the pleasure of linking with another person’s body join with his own. Not even the watchdog of hell could keep him away from fucking Astolfo’s ass as much as he could handle it. The inside was perfectly clean, tight and hot. A more perfect specimen of butthole could not be found in all of Chaldea.

Shakespeare came first, his cock shooting a hot load of semen into Astolfo’s ass. Astolfo moaned as his butt filled up, relishing in the familiar feeling of warm cum rising up to his belly button. Every part of him was crying out for more, his stamina and magic reviving to close to maximum. Spurred on by Shakespeare’s glans pressing against his prostate on the way out, he felt a sharp surge of electricity shoot down to his cock.

“Mordred, I’m gonna cum in your butt, too,” said Astolfo. “I can’t hold on any longer!”

“Wait, I’m not ready yet! I’m just getting started!” said Mordred.

“Too late, can’t stop my dick now,” said Astolfo.

With a final thrust, Astolfo pushed his dick into the depths of Mordred’s rectum. A wave of cum came out of his glans, spreading through Mordred’s anal walls and filling up her butt with a sticky, gooey warmth that she felt all the way up in her belly button. Astolfo stayed inside Mordred until he went soft. The three of them were tired, and went into their separate baths to wash up. Though all three gave a knowing look that they would meet again later that night.

In Shakespeare’s study, the unlikely party of three were at work. Shakespeare was perched over his desk, finishing his latest manuscript while Astolfo’s face was buried in his ass, giving him a rimjob. At the same time, Mordred was underneath the desk, taking his cock in her pussy. She had already lost her virginity to Ritsuka, but this was something new. Something exciting. The three of them made lewd sounds as their bodies rocked back and forth, each of them pushing the other closer to pleasure.

“Shakespeare, if you ever want to receive, you saw how much Mo liked it,” said Astolfo.

“My rump is for sitting and writing! What you are doing is the most I will allow!” said Shakespeare. “But your tongue work is impressive, Sir Astolfo.”

Mordred couldn’t say anything. She was moaning, crouched over with her butt in the air. She had agreed to let Shakespeare fuck her next once he told her what his next idea for a play was. Now, her butt cheeks were jiggling back and forth as Shakespeare thrust his hips under his desk, pounding her wet pussy with the passion of an artist, even if his eye contact was focused mostly on his desk.

“It is done!” said Shakesepare. At that moment, he hit the climax, and came inside Mordred. She had gotten all of her holes filled with cum today, and felt the happiest she had ever been.

Mordred sat on the bed opposite Shakespeare’s desk. Astolfo was licking cum out of her pussy, happy to taste more of the Bard’s semen. Mordred was surprised that Astolfo was so good at eating her out. At this rate, she wanted to find a way for him to be her new Master. The benefits were proving themselves almost immediately. With Astolfo’s head deep in her legs, Mordred asked Shakespeare what he had written.

“It is a tale, where young Mordred instead finds the Holy Lance Rhongomynyad, and gets a huge, bouncing pair of soft breasts that no bra can restrain! A fine romantic comedy, where the clash of tomboyish figure and motherly bosom makes all the men swoon - and some of the ladies. For like many of my comedies, there is a scene where Mordred disguises herself as a man.”

“HOW?” asked Mordred.

“I call it _The Merry Servants of Cleavage_! My first play written in the modern era, a true masterpiece,” said Shakespeare.

“You wrote that to wank off!” said Mordred.

“All writers do,” said Astolfo, licking the last of the cum out of Mordred’s pussy. He rose up and presented her with his hard cock, pushing it towards her cheeks. “Want to go for another round?”


End file.
